


Mid Keri Snippets

by Rinkafic



Series: Keri 'verse [21]
Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen, M/M, Stargate Atlantis AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-20
Updated: 2011-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-27 15:30:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/297340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinkafic/pseuds/Rinkafic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Here's a few more snippets that I did for Stargateland.  Theses are all happening Mid Keri.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mid Keri Snippets

**Markham & Stackhouse: Puddle Jumper Stunts**  
“Jason, we’re gonna get in trouble.” Stackhouse warned as Markham veered off the preset course and headed for a different part of the mainland.

“Not if we get back in time. This is a shortcut. Trust me.” Jason said, adjusting some controls and checking the overhead display.

Nathan sighed, not looking forward to yet another round of punishment duties if Sub Commander Lorne found out Jason was joyriding in the puddlejumper. Again.

“Look, straight up and then straight down, and we don’t feel a thing!” Markham chortled as he banked and rolled the ship after diving at the ground.

There was only one thing Nathan could think of that might distract the flight-obsessed Markham. He stood up and started stripping, tossing his uniform onto the passenger seat and waiting for Jason to notice.

Hopefully, they made it back before Lorne noticed they were missing. Again.

 

 **Sheppard, Teyla, Ronon, McKay: Fun**  
The stress of his legal battles was getting to John, he needed to do something to distract himself from the troublesome papers, contracts, lawyers and phone calls. He tried going in to SGO in the hopes that doing some of the Expedition paperwork might take his mind off things. But Lorne had finished everything on both of their desks before heading out for a long weekend with David.

John wandered down to the guest suites and knocked on Teyla and Ronon’s door. Teyla’s face glowed with happiness when she saw him on the threshold. She tugged his face down for a forehead bump and then kissed his nose, a new affectation she had picked up from someone on the Expedition. “John! I am delighted to see you.”

“I missed you too. You guys wanna go out somewhere?” At the invitation, Ronon’s face lit up too. The boredom had to be getting to them.

John signed them out, his Sub Commander’s rank gave him that authority. On the off chance that McKay might still be on the base, they went to his lab and found him huddled over a worktable with the schematics of a device spread out around him.

“Please, Sheppard, take him away. He is making mistakes and being cranky.” Zelenka made a shooing motion at Rodney.

“You heard the man, McKay, we’re busting you out. Move slowly and carefully, step away from the laptop.” John reached for the off switch, earning himself a slap on the hand, but McKay shut it down and stood.

“Where are we going?”

Sheppard shrugged and jingled his keys. “Joyriding?”

“Great. Bye, Radek, see you tomorrow.” Rodney waved and followed Teyla’s swaying hips as she waddled along in front of him.

Pausing at the door, John was going to ask Radek if he wanted to join them, but the Czech waved at him with a grateful expression. “Go, have fun, keep him away for the night and I shall be in your debt.”

“Next time you should come with us, Radek.”

“The next time, I shall. Thank you for asking. Now, go and make Rodney have fun.”

They piled into John’s base loaner and went towards town. He glanced at the rearview mirror and asked, “Anyone hungry?”

“My wife is always hungry these days.” Ronon replied, and got a dirty look from Teyla. He smirked back at her and she pinched him.

John said wistfully, “I miss that word.”

“What word, wife?” Rodney asked, staring out the window.

“Yeah. No one uses it anymore. Even my parents generation stopped using it.” Some flashing lights in a parking lot ahead drew John’s attention. He smiled and turned the car in that direction.

“What is this?” Teyla asked, leaning forward between the seats to look out the front window. “So many colorful lights!”

Rodney snorted. “A gypsy carnival. My father called them a deathtrap made up of traveling rust and rip off prices.”

“Now, Rodney, that isn’t true, and since when do you believe anything your father ever told you? My mother loved carnies. This will be fun.” John parked the car and dragged Rodney out by the arm when he refused to budge from his seat. “I’ll buy you a popsicle. Or cotton candy.” Perking up at the reminder that there were also snacks to be had, Rodney went along.

Ronon bumped John’s shoulder, tossed his chin and asked, “What’s that?”

With a bright smile of anticipation John rubbed his hands together and replied, “That is a Ferris Wheel, and we’re going there first.”

 **Cameron Mitchell: Life is Good**  
Some days, it just didn’t pay to get out of bed.

Today did not happen to be one of those days.

Following a particularly interesting encounter in a supply closet, his keri had developed an obsession with sneaking around Atlantis and ambushing him. Cam was convinced the city was in on this somehow, probably telling John where he was at any given time. It was like a giant grown-up version of Hide-and-Go-Seek. A very grown-up version.

As John dragged him into an empty lab on level twenty of building 5C, and started working the buckle of his belt open, Cam thought to himself that some days, his life was very, very good.

 

 **Teyla Emmagan, Kate Heightmeyer: Peace**  
In the past few months, Teyla had grown to like the new doctor that had come to Atlantis. Kate Heightmeyer was very interesting to converse with, even if she did ask a great deal of questions.

Teyla did not understand at first what it was that made Kate a different sort of doctor than Carson Beckett. It took many discussions for her to come to a basic understanding. It was only after she saw how the treatment Kate provided brought about changes for the better in David Parrish that she began to appreciate the need for someone like her in the city.

Teyla went for a walk with Torra in the Memorial Garden one afternoon. She saw David and started towards him slowly. He tended to run off if anyone approached him quickly, so she took her time.

When David saw her coming, he looked up and smiled. “Hello, Teyla. Hello, Torra.” He stood up and pressed a kiss to the baby’s forehead.

Later that afternoon, when Teyla saw Kate, she walked up to her and leaned up to press their foreheads together in the way of her people. “Thank you, Kate Heightmeyer.”

Kate smiled. “For?”

“For David. You have brought my friend a measure of peace.”

 **John Sheppard: Bad Hair Day**  
“So, now what are you going to do?” Cam smirked as John stomped around their quarters.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do! That is why this is a problem.” John hurled an empty plastic bottle across the room.

He couldn’t help it, it was funny. Cam laughed, though he stopped when John shot him a look that promised revenge. “Did you think of having the chemists analyze it before you ran out?”

“I did not think it was the absolute bottle of hair product in the city.”

Cam covered his smile. “So, no.”

“No, I didn’t have it analyzed.” John snapped running a hand through his out of control hair. “I’ll have to wear a hat until it grows out long enough that it doesn’t stick up. I hate wearing it long!” John was whining now.

Cam opened the closet door and tossed him a uniform cap. He reached in and moved the bottle of hair gel on the shelf a little further back, behind the pile of cold weather gear. _He_ had thought to get it analyzed, Zelenka had come up with a suitable substitute. Cam just wanted to wait until his _keri_ was slightly more desparate and likely to appreciate the gift more.

 

 **John Sheppard: Playing his Guitar**  
John was very secretive with his music. He never let anyone hear him play, not even Cam. His excuse to Cam was that he sucked at it and it was just for him and he preferred not to inflict his non-talent on anyone else.

He usually played late at night, when he thought Cameron was alseep. John still labored under the mistaken belief that he could slide out of the bed without Cam being aware of it. Cam wondered how long it would take for his keri to figure out he was wrong.

The balcony door didn’t muffle the music as well as John thought it did. Cam could still hear him. Cam had also taken to leaving the window over their bed open, and he could hear perfectly well through that.

He rolled over onto his stomach and listened as John picked out an intricate classical piece. He wanted to tell his _keri_ that the music touched him, but he was afraid of the reaction. Someday, he’d figure out a way to say what he felt, when he was sure the words would not put a stop to the music on the balcony.

 

 **Rodney McKay,John Sheppard: Sleep**  
“Rodney, when was the last time you slept?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Before, I guess.” McKay mumbled, and shuffled some notes awkwardly as he made notations on a white board. He dropped the papers and they flew in all directions.

John helped him collect the mess. “You need to sleep, buddy.”

“Don’t you have somewhere to be? A panor’eten keeping track of you? Go warm his bed. I’m busy.”

John crossed his arms and refused to budge when Rodney shoved at him. “He sent me to check on you. We’re both concerned.”

“I can’t sleep. The clowns will get me.” McKay was only half joking and John knew it.

“Come on. We’ll hang out on the couch, I’ll put a sucky movie on and you can fall asleep with your head on my shoulder and pretend it was an accident. Like old times.”

Rodney gave a deep shuddering sigh and then nodded gratefully and followed John out of the lab.

 

 **Carson Beckett, Teyla: Talking about Their Childhoods**  
“But what is a sheep?” Teyla asked as she fingered the soft wool of the blanket Carson said his mother had knitted for Torra’s blanket.

“Well, an animal. A herd animal that is raised for their wool and to eat. They’re fuzzy. And they smell bad, most of the time. They are also notorioulsy stupid creatures. But they have the softest wool. And I never met a sheep that meant to do harm to a person.”

Teyla smiled. “We kept mooln when I was a child. They also had a soft hair that made excellent yarn. A garment made of mooln hair will last for several generations. I used to help tend them when I was small. They had soft noses.”

“Soft like velvet, aye. The animals on our farm all had very soft noses too.”

 

 **John Sheppard: Home**  
Wendy Mitchell made the best pancakes in the world, John thought as he slathered butter on another flapjack and drizzled syrup over the melting butter.

He had woken to the tantilizing scent of bacon and the sound of Momma singing along with the radio down in the kitchen as she worked her magic. He inhaled deeply, the pillowcase reminded him of Cameron, his panor’eten favored the same detergent and softeners his mother used.

There were voices in the kitchen, soft conversation drifted up the back stairs to him. He had woken to the same sounds that had lulled him to sleep the previous night.

He might not have been born here, he might not have been raised here, but Auburn Kansas was home.

 

 **John Sheppard, Cameron Mitchell, Free**  
John looked at the paper on the table in front of him. The judge advocate, the medical department, his commanding officer and hell, the notary public had all signed off on the damned thing. It just needed his signature on the bottom line to be official. He looked up to see that the Commodore… no, he should get used to calling him by name now, that Cameron was watching him intently.

He was signing his life away. Thirty four years of freedom, gone with the stroke of a pen. This pen. He stared at the offending implement, twirling it between his fingers. His knee was lightly hitting the underside of the table, he always bounced his foot when he was nervous, and right now he was about to freak out.

There was no other way. In his mind, he knew it. He had accepted that this had to happen. But that didn’t make his heart stop hurting. It did not make the pain in his gut ease. The knowledge of this being the only solution to the problem did not silence the little voice in his head that kept repeating accusations of failure.

This piece of paper was all that stood between him and a long stint in Leavenworth. This piece of paper was in itself a paradox; in order to remain free; he had to sign this paper that would take away his freedom.

With a heavy sigh, he scratched his name on the bottom line and slid the document across the table to Cameron Mitchell.

 

 **Ronon Dex: Through the Medium of Mime/Song**  
The influx of new people into Atlantis had brought many things, supplies, treasures from home, oddities of many kinds. It had also brought a lot of germs and some diseases. Ronon Dex, being a Pegasus native, did not have the natural defenses that the Expedition crew had to these new microscopic invaders. It was not something he gave much thought to. Until the day he noticed that his throat was a little sore, and it hurt to talk. Then he realized that a lot of the marines and seals had been coughing and sneezing in the gym. By the middle of the day, he couldn’t speak at all without burning pain, and the words he could get out were unintelligible.

Hating the weakness, and hating even more the fact that he had to give in to it, he handed his last two defense classes for the day over to Lieutenant Stackhouse and headed to the infirmary. Doctor Beckett blinked in surprise to see him and immediately began looking for the blood. Tapping his throat, Ronon winced.

Gesturing towards an exam table, Beckett went to collect some implements. Beckett waved a tongue depressor and ordered, “Open.” He shone his little pen light into Ronon’s mouth and made some clucking noises with his tongue. “Oh, you’ve got a nasty infection there, my friend. I’ll take a culture, and we’ll get you on a treatment.”

Ronon sighed. He hated Beckett’s treatments.

Even with his stop at the infirmary, Ronon got back to the quarters he and Teyla shared very early. She looked up in surprise as he entered and crossed the room to meet him. “Ronon, what is wrong?” He patted his throat with his fingers. She stroked her fingers along his throat and then his cheek and brow. “You are ill, you have a fever. I thought you sounded odd this morning. Let me gather Torra, and I shall walk with you to see Doctor Beckett.”

He shook his head and caught her arm as she spun away. He held up a small packet of pills Beckett had pressed into his hand. Teyla smiled. “You have already been to see him. That eases my mind. Do you wish to eat?”

“Da!” Torra’s dark head popped up from her little bed. She wriggled to free herself form the blanket, abandoning her nap, as it was far more fun to play with her father than to sleep. He scooped Torra up into his arms, swinging her high, much to her delight. Knowing if he said yes to Teyla’s question that it might result in a bowl of Teyla’s tuttle root soup, he declined.

He held out the slip of paper Beckett had handed him along with the pills and tapped his finger beside the words, “If the mess hall has chicken soup or broth, it is recommended.”

“I have heard that this is so. If you will stay with Torra, I will go and bring us back a meal, including some of the chicken soup.” She went up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. Torra was wriggling to get down, so Ronon obliged, setting her on her feet. She had stopped walking a month ago, once she had mastered the skill. Now, the child ran everywhere on her tiptoes. Sheppard laughed every time he saw her and had declared that she was going to be a balla-trina when she grew up. Apparently, a balla-trina was a dancer of some kind that only walks or dances on their toes. Maybe. Ronon couldn’t remember the conversation now.

He sat in the rocking chair Teyla had abandoned and watched Torra move around the room, the undisputed queen of their living quarters. She was digging in her toy basket and came up with a book, a gift from Lorne on the day they had celebrated her first year of life. The pages had been hand painted on cardboard by Lorne and sewn together. It was one of Torra’s favorites; she loved the colorful animals that adorned each page. She brought the book to him and dropped it onto his lap, then pounded the cover, a demand to be read to.

He sighed, how could he read the words to her if he couldn’t speak?

When Teyla returned, a tray of covered dishes in hand, she found Ronon on his hands and knees with Torra clinging to his back. He was grunting and making horrible noises. Torra squealed with delight as Ronon reared up and began to scratch at himself and pound his chest.

Bending to pick up the open book from the floor, Teyla peered over at Ronon. “I believe you are more of a gorilla right now than a monkey, dear one. Come and eat your soup.”

 

 **Alison Porter, Camile Wray: Old College Buddies**  
Alison picked up her name tag from the table and pulled the backing off. She stuck it to her sweater, and felt like a total dweeb. She rolled her eyes at Becky Lynn Masters, manning the table and just as fake as she had been ten years before as she greeted and sweettalked each arriving alumni.

“God, get me out of here. Why did I agree to this?” Camille hissed, grabbing Alison’s elbow and dragging her into the ballroom. She aimed straight for the bar.

“Because you promised Lou, and a Delta Phi always keeps her promises. Smile, here comes Marie.” A waitress with a tray of wine spritzers passed by and Alison deftly snagged two of them, passing one to Camille. She plastered a smile worthy of Becky Lynn on her face and turned to greet the former head of their sorority.

 

 **Ronon Dex: The Anniversay of Melena's Death**  
Due to the time differences between planets, Ronon could never be sure what day it would have been back on Sateda. In the end, he picked the first day of winter, using the Earther’s calendar, to mark the rememberence of Melena’s death.

He wandered down to the gardens, it was quiet there, a good place for reflection. He wandered the paths, thinking about Sateda and Melena and the short time they had been together.

There was someone else in the garden today. Ronon stopped short, but then continued as he recognized David Parrish. Parrish was okay, he was quiet. He walked over to where the botantist knelt.

“Hello, Ronon.”  
“Parrish. New stuff?” Ronon pointed towards the small flat of plants beside him.

David reached over and picked up one of the purple-leafed plants. “Teyla’s people plant this to mark a special occasion. They dry the leaves and brew a tea from it and drink it in memory.”

After thinking for a few moments, Ronon crouched down and pointed to one of the loose plants. “Could I do one?”

“Be my guest.” Parrish handed him a small spade and pointed to an open area in the planting bed. “Right over there, anywhere.”

Yeah, Ronon liked Parrish. He didn’t pry. They worked quietly and Ronon was free to think about Melena, and how she would have liked this small bit of symbolism.

 

 **Jack O'Neill, Harry Maybourne: Deep Down I Care About What Happens to You**  
Jack glared at Maybourne over the desk. This hearing would hopefully bring everything out in the open. Everything that the slimeball had done, had covered up. Crimes of the sort that made O’Neill cringe, made his skin crawl.

Looking up, Jack saw the arbitrator enter the room and he grinned when he saw Richard Woolsey. There was no way Maybourne was walking on this, no way in hell. It made Jack very, very happy. He needed to see Maybourne get wahat was coming to him. He had not cared about the outcome of a hearing so much in many years.

 

 **Lorne, Cadman: Explosion**  
“You put too much in.”

“Hello, expert.” Cadman almost rolled her eyes, but caught herself at the last minute and added a respectful, “Major.”

Lorne snorted. “I still think you put too much in.”

She smirked and pressed the button on the detonator. The ground shook, the building shook, and the object of their destruction exploded, throwing debris in every direction.

There was a crater where the device used to be. The laboratory that had been beneath it was now a smoldering pit, useless to them in the future. Lorne crawled to peer down over the edge, and then looked at Cadman. “You used too much.”

She crept up beside him and with a blush and a sheepish grimace confessed, “Well, maybe a little bit.”

 

 **Chuck, Amelia Banks: Lunch?**  
“I don’t know what it was. But now I have a stomach ache.” Chuck rubbed his belly and leaned forward over his console.

“Was it the purple stuff or the orange stuff?” Amelia asked, watching Chuck with concern, she really didn’t want to spend the rest of the day cleaning barf out of the control crystals.

Chuck gave a groan. “Both.”

If he had not been feeling so ill, she might have cuffed him upside the head. “Chuck, everyone knows you never mix the purple and orange.”

“I’m gonna…” he leapt from his chair and dashed out of the Control Room.

Woolsey, seeing the rapid exit through the glass walls, came over to ask, “Is everything all right, what happened to Chuck?”

With a shake of her head to convey her disappointment in her coworker, she told him, “He mixed the purple and the orange stuff.”

“In the same lunch? Oh, that wasn’t wise.” Woolsey made a clucking sound of disapproval and went back to his office.


End file.
